Everything You Ever
by Pensulliwen
Summary: Lenalee did what she had to do. She fought, she made the hard decisions, and she took the lives. No matter how disappointed she knew that he would be in her. Because she understood that not everyone could be a savior. Based on chapter 200.


**Everything You Ever**

It was almost funny, how quickly everything seemed to fall apart.

"You need to make another choice now."

It was just another mission. It was a little nice to have Timothy around, livening the atmosphere of too-serious adults. A little nice to be in the presence of quietly strong General Klaud. The Third, Goushi, Lenalee did not terribly mind; he was civil enough, anyway. As far as missions went, she was enjoying it.

"Believe the 14th, or just like you destroyed the Third, destroy Allen Walker."

For a long while, she couldn't even bring herself to focus on the latter part.

It was just another mission, but then Goushi was… changing. Morphing in terrible ways that she could not even begin to describe, but knew intrinsically was like an akuma. He attacked while she was still trying to understand what was happening. It was not a chance that she afforded him a second time.

"_Save me."_

Lenalee did, in the only way that she knew how. But it was never about saving; it was about killing. And the Noah was right in its word choice— she did indeed destroy him.

There were no words for what he became beyond "akuma." Lenalee did not know how, she did not understand why. But her comrade was no longer a comrade. He was monstrous, powerful, and attacking even as he begged for her to save him. So she fought, and fought, and fought. And by the end she was on her knees, panting, covered in blood and tears. He- it, was nothing more than a smear on the ground. Not killed— destroyed.

It wasn't as if it had been easy.

She used to cry a lot, during missions, be it over pain or the loss of a comrade or just not _wanting_ to be doing the things that she was forced to do. It was a rare thing now, and never over pain or duty. Rarely over a comrade. The tears almost surprised her. But this was different; it wasn't grieving the loss of a fellow soldier, or watching the light from another puzzle piece disappear. It was _taking_ that life. For all that he reminded her of Central, he had fought at her side, and he had begged for her help.

But she was not sorry.

"There's no shame in it."

Lenalee started at the low, yet somehow feminine voice. General Klaud did not look up from the report she was reading, stroking Lau's head gently.

"You did what was required of you, and then you cried. There is no shame in it."

Lenalee wasn't sure how to respond. Eventually, she nodded jerkily, taking her leave from the room. Klaud let her go without another word, and for that Lenalee was grateful. The comforting sentiment was unexpected. Appreciated, yes, but… that was not really what bothered her about the whole incident.

It was slightly absurd, how the first thing that she had thought of as she kicked the creature down, knowing that the pointed rock would tear through whatever mutated flesh it met, was that Allen would be disappointed.

Kanda would tell her that she did what had to be done. That she did the right thing, if not in so many words. Lavi would tell her that, Brother would tell her that, everyone would tell her that— (if only anyone was here). And she knew it to be true. There was nothing to be done for the doomed Third, she could only destroy him before he could take anyone else with him.

But Allen would have tried. And he wouldn't want to show it, but he would be disappointed in her for not trying, no matter how much she argued with herself that she had. She hadn't. Not really. The moment that the Third had transformed, she had known what the inevitable end would be. And she had accepted it, as she always did. Fought as hard as she had to, destroyed as many as she had to, cried as much as she had to. And did not regret.

When it came down to it, Lenalee was not like Allen.

She admired him, in many ways, for all that he made her want to smack some sense into him on just as many occasions. They all had the same job, Exorcists, but somehow it seemed that every single one had a different duty. And Allen had always been a savior. He fought for those who could not, or would not, and especially for those who fought him. It was foolish, and dangerous, and it had him branded as a traitor by many far before the 14th reared his ugly head. But he would just smile through it all, different from the fake smiles that he put on for others; even if it was a false smile, this one was for him. Asking her to please understand. She tried to.

She loved him for it, all of it. But someone had to make the kills. She was glad if it did not have to be him; it gave her hope, in some small way.

But not everyone could be a savior.

She sometimes liked to think of every kill she made as one that Allen would not have to. It helped to give the action some semblance of meaning.

Lenalee glanced at Tevak— bandaged and nearly mute, but living. And she knew that there must have been a way, if she had only been able to find it. But she was not sorry.

She would never allow herself to be sorry. She was an Exorcist, and she would do her duty; whatever it entailed. She would fight, and she would care for those that she could afford to. She would protect her own, and she would make the hard choices. She would cry as much as she had to, and then she would dry her tears and keep moving forward. She would face everyone as what she was, and never apologize for it.

And she would accept Allen's disappointed expression.

As soon as he got back.


End file.
